Old archaeological tools don’t die, they just end up in the garden—at least that’s what happened today. Himself has been promising to fix one of our super torn-up flower beds for a couple years (not an exaggeration—it’s been a mess since we remodeled the house—actually two of them have been in this pathetic state all this time, but we split the difference and I finally did mine last month, so clearly—he’s way, way, way, way, behind), and today, when I wandered out the backdoor so that I could be anywhere but inside reading 1) a thesis or 2) yet more about the Oneida in 1940's Wisconsin, what did I see but my Marshalltown trowel being put to some pretty pedestrian, edge-dulling use. Oh well, it has been years (okay, a decade) since it’s been "in the field," but I was still very protectively motivated toward it. And yet...not so much as to stall the nice progress he was making on this bit of the North Forty. I'm clearly into compromise on this one; stay tuned for the before and after pix.
MP1 called from Paris today. The program there has ended and on July 31, she and FH are off to Vienna by train (have fun you two!). But here’s the real news. On July 24, she sent a postcard from France and it arrived today—less than 4 full days later. That’s just about how long it takes the USPS to get a postcard from one side of the Bay Area to the other. Pretty amazing.
No comments:
Post a Comment